


Hat Trick

by palominopup



Series: For the Love of Hockey [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gay Sex, M/M, au hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 16:46:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12511812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: Castiel attends one of Dean's games and a simple observance causes a fight between the two.





	Hat Trick

 

Castiel showed his ticket to the gate attendant and stepped through the turnstile. The arena was more crowded then usual since the home team was in the playoffs. He’d been here hundreds of times over the last few years, both to watch his husband practice and play. Since he’d eaten before the game, he bypassed the concession area and took the concourse to the reserved seats.

He greeted several of the women already in their seats. This section was for the wives and families of the players. Castiel sat down next to Becky Shurley. She wasn’t one of his favorites – truth be told, he didn’t have a favorite except for Ellen, Coach Singer’s wife. He didn’t see her, but he put his jacket in the seat next to him to hold it for her.

“Castiel, aren’t you excited? I can’t believe we’re in the playoffs. Chuck says we have a shot at the Cup. Wouldn’t that be amazing? I told Chuck that if we win it, then when it’s our turn to have it, we’ll have a huge party and… my family will be so incredibly jealous.” Castiel had learned a long time ago to let Becky talk without trying to respond to any questions until after she wound down. “What will you and Dean do when it’s your turn?”

He shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it. Dean is superstitious and doesn’t want to jinx it.” Misty Walker, the right defense’s trophy wife, turned around, her blonde hair swirling around her shoulders. She looked down her surgically enhanced nose at him before swinging her gaze to Becky.

“Gordon wants me to do a nude photo shoot with it in our bedroom.”

“Gordon disrespects the Cup like that and he’ll find himself on a farm team in the far reaches of Canada,” Ellen said, taking her seat beside Castiel. He did his best to hold back his grin. With a sniff, Misty faced forward again. Of all Dean’s teammates, it was Gordon Walker that caused the most trouble. He was a dirty player on the ice and he’d made a few snide remarks to some sports publications about Dean and his sexual orientation. Dean didn’t let it bother him, but Castiel wasn’t as forgiving.

The music grew louder and the crowd began to stomp and cheer. “ _Ladies and gentlemen…_ ”

Castiel was drawn from the announcer’s words when Ellen leaned over to his ear. “Between you and me, the owners are in negotiations to get Cole Trenton.” Castiel narrowed his eyes. Trenton was a right defensive player. He cut his eyes to Misty in the seat in front of them. Ellen just smiled. “Gordon is being traded. Bobby has wanted him gone for a long time.”

“Does Dean know?” Dean was the team captain and had weekly meetings with the owners and coaching staff. Surely, he’d have been informed.

Ellen shrugged. “No sure. I would assume so. They aren’t releasing anything to the team or the media until Trenton has signed on the dotted line. Either way, nothing can happen until after the playoffs.”

The crowd noise increased and Castiel’s eyes were drawn to the tunnel where the Impalas would take the ice. Dean was always the last to skate out, so Castiel waited patiently. The team was wearing their colored jerseys since it was their home turf. His husband was easy to spot. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. Instead, it was dangling from his stick, held above his head, his grin easily seen from Castiel’s vantage point. Then his image was thrown up on the jumbo-tron high above the ice and the fans went wild. He did a lap around the ice and women tossed out roses. Dean winked and blew kisses as he scooped up the blood red flowers. With his good looks and boyish charm, the female fan base lusted after him despite his highly-publicized marital status. “How do you even deal with that,” Becky said, as she herself, watched Dean go by with ill-disguised lust.

Before he could answer, Dean skated up to the glass partition and stopped. He met Castiel’s eyes and began tossing the roses over the glass. Castiel stood up and caught them one at a time. When Dean was done, Castiel held about thirty roses. There were collective sighs in the crowd and an occasional booing from some homophobic asshole. Dean blew him a kiss and skated off. Castiel sat down and looked at Becky. “That’s how I deal with it,” he said, holding the roses to his chest.

Moments later, the game was underway. By the middle of the second period, the game was tied, two to two. Dean nodded once to Ketch, his left wing, and Castiel cheered when Dean took a pass and barreled down center ice. The puck went airborne and the crowd held its breath as it passed just to the left of the goalie’s helmet and hit the back of the net. The buzzer sounded and the fans went nuts.

Before the period ended, Dean has scored two more goals, giving him a hat trick. Baseball caps and beanies flew onto the ice and Dean held his stick aloft.

“ _What a play by Winchester, folks. That’s his fourth hat trick for the season. He’s on fire tonight._ ”

Castiel watched Dean carefully as the third period started. He’d been complaining of shoulder pain that morning. Castiel had given him a good massage which led to even better sex. It wasn’t until ten minutes remained in the game that Dean showed signs of discomfort. The average fan wouldn’t notice, but Castiel knew his husband. “Bobby needs to pull him out,” he muttered. Ellen nodded and got out her phone. Castiel took his eyes of Dean long enough to see Coach Singer glance at his phone.

Seconds later, the backup center took the ice and Dean headed to his team’s box. He confronted Bobby, but the coach held firm. Dean threw his helmet and sat down. Castiel knew he’d been in a foul mood later, but Bobby wouldn’t risk Dean’s performance when they were up by three goals with only a few more minutes to play.

The final buzzer sounded and the Impalas were up by one game. Castiel watched as Dean celebrated with his team in their box. The fans began leaving the arena, but he stayed in his seat. Ellen patted his knee. “You coming?”

He nodded and rose. The two of them, followed by the wives and family members, moved in the opposite direction as the crowd. Castiel pushed open the doors of the clubhouse to wait for the team to emerge. Reporters were already milling around waiting for their turn to congratulate the team and ask their questions.

As usual, when the team trooped into the room, there was several minutes of chaos as questions were fired from all directions. Camera flashes strobed off the walls. Dean was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was pissed. Castiel knew Bobby told him about Ellen’s text and Dean would know he was the one who got him pulled from the game.

Dean scanned the room and when his eyes met Castiel’s, they flashed with anger. “I should go,” Castiel told Ellen, who was standing at his elbow. She looked up at him appraisingly.

“Dean’s bark is worse than is bite. You should know that by now.”

Castiel wasn’t able to reply because Dean was headed in his direction. Ellen, the traitor, moved away. Dean stopped in front of him. Years of being followed by cameras taught Dean well. He kissed Castiel, but as he pulled back, he spoke through clenched teeth. “I cannot fuckin’ believe you. I was fine, Cas. Just fine. I don’t need you giving your opinions to Bobby.”

Keeping his face neutral, Castiel met Dean’s heated gaze. “You scored three goals, Dean. The Impalas won. Wouldn’t you rather rest your shoulder so it’s fine for the next game?”

“Not your call,” Dean hissed, but smiled when a photographer aimed a camera at them. Someone stuck a microphone in Dean’s face and Castiel backed away. He found himself striding down the dim hallway that led to the parking lot. He should have kept his mouth shut.

He was halfway to the house when he phone rang. He glanced at the screen and saw Dean’s name. He dropped it on the seat and kept driving. He called twice more before Castiel got home. Then the text messages started.

 **Text from Dean/10:45 - Pick up the damn phone.**  

Castiel ruffled Boomer’s ears and headed for their bedroom. He knew he was being pissy, but he hated it when Dean was mad at him for something stupid. It wasn’t like he sent the text to Bobby. He brushed his teeth and pulled on a pair of Dean’s sweats before trotting back downstairs with Boomer at his heels. He opened the back door and the dog shot out with a gleeful bark.

His phone buzzed from where he’d left it on the counter next to the roses. Huffing, he picked it up.

 **Text from Dean/10:47 - Stop being a whiny bitch and answer the fucking phone.**  

 _Whiny bitch_? Castiel set his jaw in a hard scowl.

**Text from Dean/10:48 - Damn it, Cas. Call me.**

Castiel set the phone down again and rummaged under the sink for the vase he knew was down there. Once the roses were in water, he placed it in the middle of the kitchen’s granite island. Boomer barked at the door and he let him inside. “Come on, boy, let’s go relax.”

He padded down the hall and down the stairs that led into their basement. He switched on the lights and walked into his sanctuary. The black grand piano gleamed under the tracklighting. Boomer’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor as he made his way to dog bed in the corner of the room. Castiel sat on the bench, flexed his fingers and began to play. Soon the angry sound of Chopin’s _Scherzo No 1_ filled the room. From there, he segued into Verdi’s _Requiem_.

It was Boomer’s high-pitched yip and run up the stairs that made Castiel’s fingers falter. He glanced at his watch. Dean wasn’t usually back from celebrating with the team until after midnight. He started Melissa Etheridge’s _I’m the Only One_ , finishing out his repertoire of songs he played when he was mad.

Without looking up from the keys, he became aware of Dean’s presence. Knowing instinctively how to piss him off even more, Dean slapped his hand down on the keys. “You can stow it, Cas. I know you’re pissed.”

“You’re home early,” he said, not bothering to rise to the bait.

“Yeah, it seems my husband started calling plays on the ice and shot my mood to hell.”

Castiel stood up, the bench sliding loudly across the polished wooden floor. “I didn’t make the decision, Dean.”

“No, but you said something to Ellen and she made sure Bobby knew.” They were face to face now, a mere foot of space separating them. “It wasn’t your call.”

“It wasn’t,” Castiel conceded. “And I’m sorry.”

“Damn it, Cas. Don’t fuckin’ do that,” Dean snapped, his fingers raking through his hair.

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Do what? Apologize.”

“Yeah… no… it’s that thing you do when we fight. You just take the blame instead of…”

“Continuing to fight?”

“Yes… exactly.” Dean took a step back and blew out a breath. “You just take the fun out of arguing with you.”

Castiel furrowed his brow. “Fun? You think it’s fun when we fight?” He asked incredulously, his temper rising to the surface again.

“That’s not what I meant…”

“But it’s what you said,” Castiel countered.

“You know what I meant.” Castiel’s eyebrow went up in a silent question and Dean rolled his eyes. “How long we been together? You fuckin’ know me by now. Hell, you knew me enough to call me out when I was hurting tonight.” A triumphant gleam appeared in Castiel’s eyes. If Dean saw it, he didn’t comment. “You know damn well that I don’t like fighting with you, but you are as annoying as hell when you just roll over and take it.”

“I don’t just roll over and take it,” Castiel snarled. “With you, it’s just easier to let things go. Otherwise, you walk around with your ass on your shoulders until you deem in necessary to forgive me for any indiscretion I may have caused.”

“You know what… fuck you,” Dean shouted and Castiel winced. Dean spun on his heel and took the stairs two at a time. Boomer whined and looked from the stairs to Castiel and back again. Castiel stood, eyes closed. He hated when Dean got like this. His husband was right. Castiel did know him and right now, something else was bothering him. He wouldn’t have gotten this angry over a few minutes of ice time. Confronting him about it would just make things worse.

“You may as well go upstairs, boy. I’m sleeping down here tonight.” Boomer nuzzled his hand and with one last look, trotted up the stairs.

Mentally exhausted on what should have been a night of celebrating Dean’s win, Castiel collapsed on the couch at the other end of the basement. His six foot frame was too large for it. They’d bought the furniture for entertaining friends and family, not for sleeping. The minutes ticked by and still, Castiel stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t even bothered to turn out the lights.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard Dean’s tread on the stairs. “Cas?” He didn’t answer. For a split second, he thought of feigning sleep, but settled for remaining quiet. His husband came to stand next to the couch. “Look… I’m sorry I was a dickhead.”

Castiel met his eyes, but didn’t speak. Dean crossed his arms over his bare chest. He’d changed into a pair of plaid sleep pants. “I… uh… Christ…” Dean sat down on the sofa, none-to-gently shoving Castiel’s legs out of the way. “There’s no easy way to say this…” Castiel felt a cold hand squeezing his heart.  
“So… the owners are negotiating a deal with a player from the Penguins.”

Not understanding what that had to do with them, Castiel simply nodded. “Ellen told me.”

Dean looked down at his hands, tightly clasped on his lap. “Cole Trenton is awesome. The owner’s and Bobby think he’ll be a good fit for the team.”

“Okay…” Castiel responded, still unsure where Dean was going.

“Cole was my roommate when I played for the Stars.” Castiel knew Dean played for the AHL for two years before he was called up to the NHL.

“You’ve played with him before then,” Castiel prompted. Dean bitter laughter surprised him.

“Guess you could put it that way.” Dean stood up and began to pace. Castiel sat up. “We were…. We fucked around, Cas. It wasn’t anything serious. Neither of us were out and… and fuck, I’ve been trying to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time.”

“And you thought picking a fight would be the way to do it?” Castiel asked sarcastically. Dean bit his lip and gave a small shrug. “It was your past, Dean. Are you upset when I spend time with Zar?” Balthazar and Castiel dated for years before he met Dean. They remained good friends and Zar had even stayed with them for a long weekend between gigs. The classical guitarist was married now and lived in Los Angeles.

“Well… no… he came to our freakin’ wedding, Cas,” Dean said, taking a seat again. “This is different. Zar lives half a continent away from us and we see him a couple times a year. And he’s happily married to that weird-o. Cole will be traveling with the team…sharing a locker room…”

Lifting a sardonic eyebrow, Castiel leaned back to stare at Dean. “You are worried you and he will…”

“Fuck, no,” Dean exclaimed, his face a mask of shock. “How can you even think that? I love you… I married you. You’re my everything, Cas.”

Reaching out a hand to caress Dean’s cheek, Castiel smiled. “Then why should I be worried?” He would never admit it to Dean, but a stab of jealousy did shoot through him briefly. He was very possessive of his husband.

“I don’t know. I just thought you’d be mad.”

“I’m glad you told me, Dean. I am angry that you kept this a secret until it ate at you enough to start a stupid fight with me.”

Dean’s face transformed with his brilliant smile. “Can I make it up to you?”

“We’ll see,” Castiel said off-handedly.

“Don’t make me beg, Babe.” Dean slid off the couch and onto his knees. He positioned himself between Castiel’s thighs. “ _Please_ … let me…” he pressed his palm to Castiel’s cock. “Let me taste you.”

Castiel lifted his hips and allowed Dean to pull off his sweatpants. He wasn’t hard, but when Dean began nuzzling against his pubic hair, his cock began to fill and lengthen. Dean hummed and kissed his balls before taking them into his mouth, one at a time. Castiel wrapped his hand around the back of Dean’s head, guiding him where he wanted. Dean took him into his mouth, suckling gently. “I like when you beg, Dean. I love how you sound when you need me.” He let Dean get him fully erect and aching before he gripped his hair and pulled him off. Dean whined and Castiel forced him to look up at him.

Dean’s lips were slick with his own spit, parted slightly and Castiel loved seeing him like that. “Don’t touch yourself,” he said huskily. He loosened his grip and Dean hungrily took him into his mouth. Dean’s right hand curled around the base of Castiel’s shaft, while his left gripped the edge of the sofa so hard his knuckles turned white. Castiel knew his husband was aroused and fighting the need jack off. “I love watching you like this… so beautiful… so good.” Dean made a keening sound and took Castiel deeper. He could feel the ridges at the top of Dean’s mouth on the sensitive head of his cock. “That’s it… take it all.”

He jerked forward when Dean relaxed his throat and began sucking him down in earnest. Dean’s hand moved down to cup his balls. He tugged on them, squeezing just enough that Castiel inhaled sharply. “You want to taste? You want my cum?”

Dean released his cock. Castiel’s engorged glans rested against his cheek. “Please, Baby… need it.” Castiel fisted himself and rubbed his arousal over Dean’s lips. Green eyes gazed lovingly up at him. “Please…” Castiel pushed into his mouth, feeling Dean’s teeth graze his length. He hissed and thrust into Dean’s mouth. His hand joined Dean’s on his balls and his orgasm coiled in his belly like a snake.

His release took his breath. The feel of Dean’s mouth swallowing his load and licking him clean seemed to come from far away. He sank back into the couch and let his head lull back. Butterfly kisses brushed over his thighs and then up his stomach, causing him to shiver. “Can I…” Dean didn’t finish. He got to his feet and Castiel could see his erection straining against the flannel cloth.

“Yes.”

Dean shoved his pants to mid-thigh and Castiel watched through hooded eyes as his husband brought himself to climax. It only took moments and Dean’s cum erupted over Castiel’s stomach and chest, leaving rivulets over his pale skin. Knowing Dean’s legs were weak, Castiel pulled him forward, so he was sitting astride Castiel’s hips. Uncaring about the sticky fluid on his body, he brought Dean’s head down for a long, satisfying kiss.

When their heartrates returned to normal, Dean sat up and grimaced at the mess. “Time for a shower,” he said softly before returning to kiss Castiel again. “Forgiven?”

“Always,” Castiel said softly, relishing in the feel of his husband’s body draped across his own. “Always,” he repeated.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quickly, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them.
> 
> Again, this series is a gift to my friends and family on https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/


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